


What Do You Want?

by ros3bud009



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: War for Cybertron Trilogy (Cartoon)
Genre: And Optimus is kinda into it, Humiliation, M/M, Ratchet is mean to Optimus, References to Power Dynamics, War for Cybertron Trilogy, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ros3bud009/pseuds/ros3bud009
Summary: “No one says no to you, do they?” Ratchet finally asked, though it barely sounded like a question.Optimus didn’t mean to tense up, but all at once his processor cried out in defense.“I would be a poor leader if I did not listen—”“Shut up.”
Relationships: Optimus Prime/Ratchet
Comments: 7
Kudos: 122





	What Do You Want?

**Author's Note:**

> Is anyone surprised that I'm at it again, forcing RatchOP into anything I watch?
> 
> Anyway, WFC Ratchet is Big Sexy (tm) and I needed to utilize that. And somebody needs to tell WFC Optimus no.
> 
> If somehow you're here before watching the show, vague spoilers re: Ratchet, and also I don't know that it'll make much sense without context. But alas, if you're determined to plow through, spoilers be damned, that's your business, not mine.
> 
> Also hhhhhh vaguely horny but nothing happens so

Optimus wouldn’t have said he was solely met with agreement and acceptance. Not at all. His orders were questioned. His ideas debated. Primus, between Elita and Ultra Magnus, he was often left with churning self-doubt.

But perhaps he really did not have the humility he once did.

After all, for any pushback Optimus met, there was ultimately respect.

But there was none of it in the cold way that Ratchet snapped, “What do you want?”

Truthfully, Optimus wasn’t quite sure. When the engineer-turned-medic had walked away to settle the affairs of his small clinic, there was nothing inviting about him. Not towards Optimus anyway. There was something like kindness when he spoke with Impactor and with the other mechs he was leaving behind, a kernel of warmth in his deep world-weary tone.

And instead of leaving – he _should_ have left – Optimus had found himself leaving his Autobots behind and following Ratchet into the storage room.

He might have considered beating a quick retreat upon realizing his mistake, but the door slid shut behind him with finality.

And that softness around Ratchet’s hard edges evaporated seemingly before his eyes. His back was to Optimus, but his voice was harsh and his shoulders tense as he continued to sift through one of dozens of toolboxes.

“I wanted to check if there was anything we might be able to supply you with, should you need it.”

Ratchet’s frame stilled except for the slow turn of his helm to look over his shoulder at Optimus. Barely a fraction of one optic was visible, but apparently Ratchet saw enough as he snorted and shook his helm.

“No.”

“Are you sure? I can comm head to Red Alert—”

“ _No_ ,” Ratchet repeated, sterner now as he turned to face Optimus; stern enough that Optimus’s vocalizer snapped offline. “That’s not what you want.”

Optimus didn’t shift awkwardly, but it was a near thing.

“Clearly I’ve overstepped.”

“You think?”

Optimus wouldn’t have said it was hateful, but only because he didn’t think Ratchet cared enough to even hate him.

He should leave.

Ratchet’s optics scanned him slowly, and when he sighed, it was as if he were facing down a project he would have rather put off indefinitely.

“No one says no to you, do they?” Ratchet finally asked, though it barely sounded like a question.

Optimus didn’t mean to tense up, but all at once his processor cried out in defense.

“I would be a poor leader if I did not listen—”

“Shut up.”

Optimus’s hands fisted at his sides as his chest filled with indignation.

“Ratchet—”

“ _No_ ,” Ratchet said again as he took one step away from his toolbox and towards Optimus, pointing a finger at him, “you don’t. You hear them, but you don’t _listen_. But right now, you will _shut up_ , and you will _listen_ to me.”

There was an audible click of Optimus’s vocalizer, but that was all.

Ratchet approached another step.

“You hear the Autobots. You may even think you respect them and their opinions. But you don’t _listen_ because they won’t tell you no. Not in any meaningful way. Oh, they’re tell you they disagree. ‘Prime, you shouldn’t, Prime, you can’t, Prime, please don’t.’” Ratchet’s hands braced on his hips as he sneered up at Optimus. “They debate and argue and beg, but what happens every time? Who gets the final word?”

Optimus’s spark twisted in his chest, but he couldn’t get his vocalizer to reset correctly.

“The Autobots say no, but you don’t listen. And they let you. Because you’re _Prime_. They can’t say no to _you_.”

Finally, Optimus managed, “Of course they can.”

Ratchet smiled and it was chillingly cold.

“No, they can’t. I should know,” Ratchet said as he reached a hand up to tap at the Autobot brand still on his chest. “I gave, and I gave, and I _gave_ for you, Prime. You asked, and I said yes. Or maybe I said no, and next thing I knew, an order took its place. And I couldn’t say no to an order.” Another step. This time Optimus gave into the instinct to step away. “You barely even knew who I was, but you knew damn well I couldn’t say no to you.”

“But you did. You left.”

Yet another step.

Optimus’s back bounced against the wall with a dull ring.

“Because I realized how much death and destruction had been wrought by my work because I didn’t make you listen when I said no.”

Optimus was still the larger between the two of them, but he wasn’t used to the difference being so slight. Ratchet was large for a grounder and felt all the more so as he crowded Optimus against the wall, absolutely fearless.

It hadn’t been the lack of respect that had caught Optimus so off guard, he realized with a sinking sick feeling.

It was the lack of deference.

“And that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Liar.”

Ratchet’s hand was warm on his chest as he forced Optimus against the wall and held him there, pressing in until there was a squealing screech of metal. His other hand was sure and unyielding as he grabbed Optimus by the back of his neck to yank him down.

“I don’t love you like an Autobot. I don’t hate you like a Decepticon. I’m not _obsessed_ with you like every other mech in your Primus-forsaken life,” Ratchet hissed in his face and Optimus could hear his armor clatter as he shook.

“And that just makes you want me all the more, doesn’t it?”

Ratchet’s brilliant blue eyes were cold and unimpressed when Optimus found himself speechless with the realization that his frame trembled with charge as well as shame.

“What a pathetic excuse for a leader.”

It was soft, quiet, barely there, but Optimus groaned and they both heard it.

And then Ratchet stepped back, taking the solid strength of his hands with him.

Optimus onlined his optics fully, blinking them a couple of times as he watched Ratchet turn away from him.

“Ratchet?”

Ratchet didn’t so much as glance over his shoulder this time as he returned to his toolbox.

“My answer is no, Prime. Get out.”

With one last, traitorous shudder and choked back noise of complaint, Optimus willed his frame to move as he obeyed Ratchet.


End file.
